


Clubbing experiences after hell

by antrazi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Gen, Knifeplay, Master/Slave, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antrazi/pseuds/antrazi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam in a BDSM Club</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clubbing experiences after hell

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where that came from  
> Beta: jonjokeat

Dean looked around the club.

Both he and Sam stood out like sore thumbs in their Fed suits, everybody else suited up in various costumes.

But then, what else should you expect in a private BDSM club.

Dean loved the way Sam was squirming at all the things he was seeing here.

"Something wrong, Sammy?"

"It's just... I don't feel comfortable here."

Sure, everybody had their own kinks, Dean thought and that was all good between two (or more) consenting adults. He had had enough kinky women in his live that he could say he tried a lot of different things at least once, but still a part of him wondered about his brother.

"You want to tell me you were OK with full on blood play with that bitch Ruby, but you never dabbled outside of the standards otherwise?"

Sam's face made clear that this idea wasn't that far from the truth.

There had been the blood, sure. And all the angry sex with the demon. But Sam had never been much into really playing, scenarios and all the other possibilities out there.

Jess had managed to get him to role play with her, but he knew he'd required so much trust even for that, he would never do that with a partner he couldn't trust enough.

Not like his hedonistic bastard of a brother Sam had found in an interesting situation with their 30 year old neighbor when Sam had been 13. There would never be enough brain bleach to unsee that.

Dean watched the show a Mistress was putting on with her slave.

The guy was bound, gagged, squirming and writhing against the St Andrews Cross. He seemed to enjoy every second.

His Mistress was wielding a whip of some kind.

It didn't surprise Dean that in spite of everything he wasn't reminded of the pit in any way. He had used a lot of the things found here, had tortured more people than he could count. Still, it was different.

Point one, this was just playing compared to hell. Even the people who would be considered hard core in this scene were nothing compared to the pit.

Point two, these people chose this. They weren't just playthings for hell's amusement, they got something out of this for themselves.

So no, contrary to Sam's unvoiced panic that Dean wouldn't feel well here, he saw no problems.

Dean laughed internally.

Sam had wanted to come here alone to spare Dean the memory trip. The way his little brother eyed the happenings around him he would have fled the club without Dean as backup.

He ignored him to watch the Mistress. She was the one they were here for.

She readied and disinfected her utensils and started cutting with a sharp looking knife.

Sam saw the blood on the human and his face went pale. He was the one who was reminded of things not forgotten.

Dean considered the set-up of the scene critically.

Of course it was different in hell, but he knew how this worked.

She had prepared accordingly. Everything was clean and disinfected, a container for everything sharp for safety precautions, pins and needles were there as well. Dean expected it hadn't been so long ago since they graduated to knifes.

There were latex gloves (she wore them as well) and a properly prepared first aid kit and even a Violet wand for playing later.

The only thing that wasn't as it should be was the way she held and used the knife.

Of course she didn't have years and years of practice, Dean knew he couldn't compare his competency to somebody who hadn't the experience of a torturer in hell on their resume. But he still had some professional pride.

It didn't have anything to do with them having identified her as a potential future victim, this woman needed help.

* * *

"You should use the scalpel."

Who had disturbed their scene? This was just not done.

She looked around and found the one who'd disturbed her, a good looking man in a suit. She was so surprised she didn't even know how to react.

"What?"

"The scalpel. The knife you are using now is a bit too long and heavy for you. It doesn't lie in your hand as it should. You should try a scalpel until you feel absolutely sure in handling a knife, or perhaps a straight razor. It gives you a lot more control."

* * *

Sam couldn't believe what had happened. Dean was standing next to the woman they wanted to check out without her knowledge and explained to her and a group of other interested club goers how to find your perfect knife and how to use it accordingly.

A big guy in leather weighted different knifes in his hand and nodded to something Dean said, asking questions here and there.

The woman from the scene was up with her partner and tried the scalpel and a different grip than before, answering back to Dean that it felt better in her hand than the old one.

He ignored everything around him and looked for the bar.

He needed a drink.


End file.
